Fever
by f4life
Summary: Isabella marries Jacob Black through an arranged marriage in 1789. His cold personality leaves her with nothing but misery. And just when she can't take it anymore, she meets a boy with golden eyes. A boy that turns her & her husband's life upside down.


**A/N: So just going to point out a few things before you start reading this. The story is set in the late 1700's and to be honest, I'm not very familiar with the Quileute's lifestyle back then; as in their clothing and way of living, that kind of stuff. I did do some research, but not enough, and since this story has just been lying in my laptop for a long time now, I just decided to post it without perfecting it. I didn't even use Quileute names to avoid confusion. I also decided that Emily shouldn't be with Sam in this one, sorry if that upsets you. Anyway, I intended to make this chapter longer and more dramatic, but I really wanted to post it. I haven't been in the twilight mood for months now, so I hope by posting this that it helps inspire me again.  
I need an editor, so any out there? And well I don't even know if you guys will like this, but I hope you do. If so, I'll do more explaining in future chapters.  
Happy reading!**

**Chapter One: The First Push**

_La Push, June 1789_

On one unusually warm morning, Isabella decided to visit First Beach for the first time in a long time and sat back against her favorite log of driftwood; pale legs sprawled out in front of her, watching the sea sparkle under the sun as tears cascaded down her red cheeks.

She sat there reminiscing of her life before, a time when she never needed permission to do anything as simple as a walk along the shore. Her life was beautiful then, everyday was a day to look forward to, and every night was a night to fully enjoy. Back in those days she was happy, and unlike now, she wanted to become a full blooded Quileute. Everything about these people amazed her, made her love them more, and she would've done anything just to gain their approval. She'd even dance just like them to impress the elders, despite the fact that she had two left feet.

But now… Isabella wasn't the Isabella she had been. Isabella was a slave to her husband. In fact everything revolved around her husband. She couldn't do anything without his permission, not even blink. Every morning she'd wake up and find him lying next to her, a brown leg thrown over her pale ones, an action that wasn't out of affection but out of possession. If she so much as moved he'd awaken, his bloodshot eyes glaring at her as he muttered angrily to himself before falling back asleep. It sickened her to the stomach to think that this was who she would spend the rest of her life with; this was who she would have to rely on until her day came.

Her husband's name was Jacob Ephraim Black.

He was bowed down to by the Quileute people because of his father's position as chief, and apparently every young man idolized him and every young girl sought after him. Isabella wasn't going to lie to herself; he was a fine looking man. But that's all there was to him, looks. Inside, he wasn't a good person. He treated her poorly, expected too much and never failed to remind her that she was his and that she must never disobey him or she'll be sorry.

Isabella feared she wouldn't be able to deal with this any longer. They'd only been married a month and the thought of spending _years_ with him was killing her. She wanted her freedom back.

So that morning when she awoke and found that his thick leg wasn't thrown over hers, she made a quick escape to First Beach. He'd find her, she knew he would, and he'd be angry, and he'd punish her somehow, but Isabella didn't care as she basked in her temporary freedom. First Beach was worth it.

"Isabella?" Emily Young called out in surprise, and Isabella snapped her head around to find the heavily pregnant woman only inches away from her.

"Emily." She scrambled up to her feet, swatting at the dried tears on her face. "I didn't hear you come."

Smiling, Emily rubbed her tummy. "I walk a lot slower than I normally do, Isabella. That's probably why. Besides, what are you doing out here so early? Is Jacob here with you?" her dark eyes momentarily left the newly wed's to scan the area for any sign her husband.

"Um, no." Isabella said, her cheeks warming. "I came alone. I needed some time by myself."

"Did you tell Jacob?"

Tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, she shook her head. "No… I didn't think he'd need to know. It's not that far away from the tipi…"

Emily pursed her lips and moving closer to Isabella, she whispered. "You'd better get back home now; he of all people will not be pleased."

"But-"

"Isabella," she warned. "Trust me, I know how Jacob is. He and Jared spend a _lot_ of time together."

It was clear to her then that Emily's words were final and that she expected Isabella to start on her way home. So Isabella nodded curtly, before turning on her heel and heading in the direction she came from. The woods were not a pleasant place to be and if it hadn't been sunny, she would've taken another path. But that morning the sun was shining so brightly that she could feel its rays burning through her soft skin. What Emily did not know, was that Isabella wasn't going back to Jacob.

No, Isabella decided to wander the depths of the forest she was so familiar with, and yet so unfamiliar with at the same time. She'd often pass through them with her best friend, Leah, as they went to gather plants, herbs and clams. Sometimes other women would tag along, but the two buddies preferred to be alone so that they could talk privately to one another without anyone prying in on their business. They'd practically run from the village ever since Isabella had gotten married, because it was the only time they got to spend together.

Isabella's hands balled into fists just at the thought of that. Jacob was ruining her social life.

Marrying him made her hate marriage. For the past month she'd been begging Leah not to marry Samuel Uley, warning her that things wouldn't be so peachy once she was his. But her dear friend wouldn't listen to her; instead she'd just shake her head and blush, murmuring something about how she couldn't wait any longer.

Now an hour out in the middle of the woods, Isabella found herself in a clearing and in the middle of this beautiful clearing, stood a pink rose. It was such a rare thing for her to see, that she ran up to it, dropped to her knees and studied it. Then she smiled, plucked it out from the earth and held it up to her nose, the wonderful smell of it making her head fuzzy.

It reminded her of her childhood, of the days she never even knew that the Quileute existed. She had been a white girl back then, travelling through the new world with her father. Isabella never knew her mother, for she had died in childbirth and so it was just her and Charles, mesmerized by the beauty of America.

Perhaps if they hadn't come to Washington, she would have a different life, a life where her father would still be alive.

Swiping at a tear that had escaped her eye, she stood back up and lifted her head.

Jacob.

He stood not too far away; completely bare except for the breechclout he was wearing. Under the sunlight, his skin appeared a brighter shade of brown and his muscles more pronounced. Up until that moment, Isabella hadn't really noticed how truly magnificent he was and how intimidating he must seem to the others. This realization scared her. She wondered what he was going to do to her for sneaking out.

"You've disappointed me, Isabella," he said as his long black hair swayed in the light breeze.

"Why should I waste such a beautiful sunny morning under a roof?" she retorted with a roll of her eyes. How he had found her she would never know.

"Don't speak to me like that!" he snapped, his eyes flashing as he walked up to her and grabbed her by the wrist. "I am your husband! Son to the chief of our tribe! I am an honorable man! A man you were lucky to be chosen for! You mustn't ever disrespect or disobey me, ever! I am incredibly angry with you right now! So angry! How dare you venture off without my permission!"

"I grew bored, Jacob! You bore me! Lying there every morning, snoring into my ear! I'm sick of it!"

Gasping, he tightened his hold on her wrist until he was sure it was painful for her. "You're going to pay for the cheek you're giving back to me, Isabella. You foolish girl! I will shame you in front of everyone. No one will side with a pale face."

"Try me!" she hissed, seeing red.

And there it was, the smack across her face that caused it to twist sideways with the brutal force of it. At first, she couldn't feel a thing except shock, but after a couple of seconds she felt the burn on her cheek. It was incredibly painful and for a minute, she thought she was going to cry. But she forced her tears away, Jacob didn't deserve them.

"Isabella…" he started, and Bella took note of the way his voice shook nervously. This angered her even more, he shouldn't be feeling nervous, he should be feeling remorse! His actions proved to her that he was not a man. A man wouldn't hit a woman.

Swallowing thickly, she brought her eyes up to meet his guarded ones. "You have yet to prove yourself an honorable man, Jacob." And snatching her wrist from his hold, she spun around, running off into the wilderness.

When she reached their camp, her _honorable_ friend Leah took in her distressed appearance and ran up to her, asking her what was wrong. But Isabella never slowed down to talk to her; she didn't want to talk to anyone. The last time someone had hit her was back when she was nine years old, and it was by her father. Jacob hitting her had unleashed something inside her, she didn't know what, but everywhere she looked only triggered it off. Her hands were shaking and she felt this urge to tear something apart. What scared her was that she had never felt this way before and it was all Jacob's fault. She wanted to tear _him_ apart.

"Isabella-"

"Shut up Leah, just leave me alone!" she barked before entering her home.

Once inside, she carelessly fell to the fur that she and Jacob slept on, and fell asleep.

* * *

When she awoke, not only was there a leg thrown over her, but an arm too. Not to mention the fact that his muscled torso was pressed against her back, spreading warmth throughout her body. Hearing the sound of laughter outside, she realized it wasn't late, which made her wonder why Jacob was already sleeping. But when she made a move to get up, he was already on top of her, one hand pressed next to her head and the other fumbling with the strings of his breechclout.

His eyes black as he breathed out. "Isabella."

Sex was part of their marriage, and as Isabella thought about it, the worst part of their marriage. Every night he'd come to her before she went to sleep, he'd never say anything and neither would she, it was like a silent agreement between them; we'll come together at the latest hour, no questions asked. However, despite keeping a poker face throughout the sessions, Isabella was thoroughly revolted by the act. She hated Jacob, she hated him touching her, she hated him speaking to her, and she hated him breathing the same air as her. And so for him to be inside her, to spill his seed deep inside her fragile body and possibly make her pregnant… it made her want to vomit up everything she'd eaten. Not to mention how bad it hurt…

And for him to ask this of her after that god awful smack he had given her only hours before? It made her hate him even more.

She shoved at his chest and shook her head. "No, Jacob!"

"Isabella!" he hissed, throwing his only piece of clothing aside and swatting her hands away as she continued to slap him.

The young girl knew that if she let him have his way with her, it'd be over within two minutes and that he'd leave her alone afterwards. But she couldn't, not after how treated her, not with the disgust she was feeling for him. In fact, she knew that there would be a very fat chance she'd end up vomiting all over him if he put that… _thing_ inside of her.

"Get off of me you son of a bitch! Put your dirty paws somewhere else! Leave me alone!" she snarled and without thinking, smacked him across the face like he had done her.

Jacob, momentarily hurt, flinched in response and brought his hand up to his cheek, the burn reminding him of the times his father had beaten him…

Meanwhile, Isabella scrambled away from him, thinking that she had a chance to escape. But he caught her foot and no matter how much kicking she did, he wouldn't let her go. In her eyes, he could see the fear and the hatred she held for him, and for the first time in his life, Jacob felt pity. But it was short lived, because he was young and loveless, and was replaced with rage.

How dare his wife hit him!

"No!" she screamed as he crawled on top of her and rested his whole weight on her fragile body. Every part of him touching her, she could feel him throbbing against her thigh…

"Shut up!" he grabbed her chin and forced her to look into his eyes while his hand snaked between them and pushed her skirt up. And as his rough fingers brushed over the inside of her pale thighs, he found she was wet. This confused him, Isabella didn't want him, and she never enjoyed their intimate moments, so why…

"Your mother should've told you to leave a girl alone when she-" Isabella cut herself off, mortified as she watched her husband stare at his bloody fingers. She could feel her cheeks flushing. Never for a second had she thought of her cycles until that moment.

He swallowed thickly, his eyes glancing up at her for a split-second before he pushed himself off of her and stood by her feet. Jacob knew about the female body and how it worked, so he understood why Isabella was in the state she was. But what bothered him, what really got under his thick skin, was the fact that he hadn't impregnated her. Him, son to the chief of their people, hadn't succeeded in getting his wife pregnant. How shameful after the many times he'd spilt himself inside of her?

Isabella moved to sit up and quickly pulled her skirt back down. She was so embarrassed and what made matters worse was how he was staring at her. He looked so… disgusted.

"I should've never married you," he finally said.

She looked up at him through teary eyes, feeling so completely vulnerable. "Took you long enough to realize," she whispered.

"Then again, it wasn't my choice. My father chose you."

"Your father is an honorable man."

He laughed bitterly to himself. "Another thing we haven't got in common."

This stunned Isabella. "You don't like your father?"

He held his hand up. "We're not going there. We're never going there. I'll never go there with _you_."

"Why do you hate me, Jacob?"

"I don't hate you."

"Then why-"

"-because I don't feel anything for you. Nothing."

"But I've been a good wife to you. I always obey you. I listen to everything you have to say. I do everything for you, in your favor."

"Reluctantly, Isabella."

This was true, but didn't change anything. Most wives do the things they do in reluctance. "How can you expect me to want to do those things, Jacob?"

Running a hand through his silky hair, he let out a deep breath and went to retrieve his breechclout by her. She couldn't help but notice how his manhood swayed between his thighs as he began to dress again, just the fact that in a matter of minutes he was flaccid, really put a blow to her confidence. Not that she wanted him to want her, she didn't, but not only did his expression say she disgusted him, his body did also. It was practically screaming it in her face.

Biting her lip, she lay back down and turned on her side, facing away from him as the tears finally began to escape her eyes.

Jacob was done with her for the time being. He no longer wanted to be in her presence, she was giving him a headache. If he had known that this was what his married life would come to within a _month, _he would've refused to marry until later. After all, he was still very young, only nineteen and Isabella only a year younger than him. Maybe that was the problem? Maybe he should've married an older girl, a girl with more sense.

A girl like her best friend, Leah, she would be twenty soon. And she was beautiful, unlike Isabella. Unfortunately Sam Uley wanted her.

Fucking Sam, Jacob couldn't stand him.

Leaving their miserable home without another word, Jacob walked off into orange night filled with music and laughter and Sam and Leah.

And Isabella fell asleep with tear streaked cheeks.


End file.
